What happened to Krum?
by x.SmileyGirl.x
Summary: OK, so we know that Ron and Hermione got married and lived happily ever after...but what happened to Krum? Did he get over Hermione, or does he still love her...
1. Revenge

**Hey! This is my first fanfic so I'm just trying it out! Please review if you think there's anything I could improve on. Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: I have asked my mum several times if I can buy Harry Potter, but she insists that J. will not want to sell it to me so there we go.**

**What happened to Krum?**

"Exellent save there from the keeper...oh, and the quaffle's been handed to the chaser-wait-what's the seeker doing? Has he seen the snitch? He has! He's gaining speed...reaching out, he just can't grab it! He's getting quicker...HE'S GOT IT!! VICTOR KRUM'S DONE IT AGAIN! ANOTHER WIN FOR BULGARIA!!"

The commentators magically magnified voice boomed through the stadium, and Krum-landing lightly on the ground-was soon greeted by a host of cheers and congratulations. He nodded politely then exited the pitch into the changing rooms. His teammates slapped him on the back and clapped as he came in, so he went into the showers, where he would not be disturbed. All of the wizarding world thought he had it made. He was a world famous, sensationaly talented seeker, rolling in money. He lived in a huge (and digustingly expensive) mansion house in Bulgaria. His old, smelly sock had sold for thousands via the Floo Network. And yet he still was not happy.

He still loved Hermione Granger.

He had been to her wedding the previous week, which he thought might help him realise that he couldn't have her back, and that he should move on. In reality, watching her marry that lanky, ginger Ronald Weasley had made his blood boil. He knew he was far better for her, and he could give her so much more than Weasley could, yet she didn't see that. Krum thought that maybe-though he hated to admit it-she might...love him.

The very idea outraged him! How was it possible? Every witch in Europe would give their right leg to be with him, but the only one he loved was in love with someone else?! Impossible!  
He got out of the shower, fuming with his own thoughts. Getting dressed, he swore to himself he would have his revenge...


	2. I'll always love you

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did I would be a lot richer then I am now**.

**What happened to Krum?**

Hermione sang along to the old Celestina Warbeck songs that were playing on the WWN as she set the table. Summoning the knifes and forks, she called Ron from his shed. Just then, a handsome tawny owl flew gracefully in through the window. She frowned. What would such a grand looking owl be doing here, in the humble house she shared with her husband? It stuck out it's leg and, as if to answer her question, revealed a small, square package. She took it, and the owl set back off to wherever it had come from.

Ron stumbled through the door, looking tired and worn from his day of work. "Sit down, dear-your dinner's on the table." Hermione said, sweetly.  
He sat down, and picked up his knife and fork. He lowered them again when he saw the package in Hermione's hand.  
"

What's that?" He asked.

"I don't know!" She replied, truthfully

"Well, open it then!" He ordered, getting excited. He obviously thought they'd won something.

She ripped off the paper, throwing it aside, and revealed a small, dark box. Lifting the lid she gasped, for inside there was something she would never have expected to see.

A necklace. Made of 24 carat gold. Inside the heart shaped pendant was set one single diamond. She looked at Ron, "It's beautiful!" She cried "But where did you get the money? I hope you didn't get it out of the pension fund-"

"Wait" Ron said, harshly "What is in the box?"

Hermione held up the stunning necklace, "This" She said, confused "Surely you sent it?"  
"I didn't send anything." He replied, simply "How could I afford that?" Hermione said nothing. She looked back in the box, where she found a note, scribbled on a small piece of parchment

I'll always love you, Hermione


	3. The plan

**Disclaimer: OK, I REALLY DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**What happened to Krum?**

Victor Krum paced up and down his private bedchamber like he was about to face a dragon. He knew by now that Hermione would have got his impressive (and shockingly expensive) gift. He also knew that she would have realised that her husband could never surprise her with presents such as that one.

But he wondered what she thought of it. Was it her style of jewellery? Would she wear it often? Was she wearing it now? Did she wonder if it could have been him that sent it?

He shook his head. All these questions had no answers yet. The necklace was not going to be the only gift he sent her-far from it. He meant it to be the first of many delightful surprises for her.

He had a plan-a plan that would blow Weasley right out of the water. She would be his, no matter what extremes he would have to go to to get her.  
He ran the plan through in his head-not for the first time-as he got dressed. He doubted he even needed to be that underhanded, really. It was just for procaution, he told himself, pulling on his quidditch robes. After all, he didn't know if Weasley would be over protective of her-if he was, Krum would have to resort to plan B, and he didn't like plan B nearly as much as plan A.

He grabbed his broom, and left his bedchamber. He grinned. He didn't know why on earth he was so worried about Weasley-he was a world famous qudditch player, worth millions, and, if he must say so himself, exceedingly attractive. What did Weasley have on him?  
His laughter rang out loud and clear in the hall. He had never felt so important in his life.


	4. Golden tickets

**Hey! Thanks to the 2 people who have reviewed so far, I really appreciate it! The rest of you, get reviewing!! Pleeaase!!???**

**Disclaimer: I had a dream once that I owned Harry Potter, and it was awesome! I was a bit disapointed when I woke up though.**

**What hapened to Krum?**

Hermione was pulling on her ministry robes when the handesome tawny owl came bursting, yet again, through the window. It was no surprise to her now - it had come every day for the past few weeks, bearing a parcel of some description. Some days it was flowers, others sweets or chocolate from Honeydukes. Each present had a note at the bottom, written in unfamiliar handwriting, saying how much the sender loved her.

She sighed, and went to the window to untie the parcel from he owls leg. Once she had done this, the owl spread it's wings and flew off. Todays gift was in a very small, flat box. She took it downstairs to Ron.

"There's been another one." She announced.

"Well, what is it, and shall I confiscate it with the rest of them?" He said, in a monotonous voice.

"You havn't confiscated them! You've put them in your underwear drawer!" She laughed. He tried to be authoritive, but inevitably failed.

"Whatever!" He sounded annoyed "What is it?"

She opened the box. Inside were two first class tickets to the Bulgaria/Switzerland Quidditch world cup match! She waved them in her husbands face, a wide grin spreading from ear to ear.

"Oh, just quidditch tickets. Bulgaria Vs Switzerland - we won't be wanting them, I'm sure-"

"Hang on!" Ron interupted, his face suddenly brightening "Maybe we should go - I mean maybe he'll be there, the bloke who's sending you all that stuff!"  
Hermione laughed. "You know what Ron - that might just be a good idea!" She put the tickets away in the kitchen cupboard, checking the date one more time. She wrote "quidditch match" in her dairy and set off to work with a light heart. She wasn't keen on quidditch - never had been - but she wanted this mystery solved quite as much as Ron did.


	5. The big match

**Disclaimer: I own Harry Potter. NOT.**

**What happened to Krum?**

Victor Krum was nervous. It was a feeling he was not used to. He was a hard, tough man and nothing scared him - not even the fact that the Quidditch World Cup rested on his shoulders. The only exception to this rule was Hermione.

Today was the big match - but not in the terms of who they were playing - Bulgaria had beaten Switzerland innumerable times. No, this was the big match because Hermione would be there to watch him - sitting in the Top Box seats he had got for her and a freind. Only now he thought about it, she would probably have bought Weasley.

This would not be a problem, however. The plan was, after the match, to approach her with another gift - the most meaningful and beautiful yet. With the whole crowd watching, he would present her with the gift, sweep her off her feet and whisk her away to his home, leaving Weasley far behind.  
He sighed. After today, he would never have to be alone again. He could see how life with Hermione as his wife would be. He imagined himself and Hermione walking hand in hand into the sunset, her leaping into his arms when they won the Quidditch World Cup, them both getting into bed at the end of the day.  
No. He must not be distracted by these daydreams yet. He had to keep his eye on the prize, and when he had secured it he could live the life he saw in his wildest dreams. All of his dreams involved her.

He grabbed his broom. Even from the changing rooms, he could hear the roar of the crowd. He hoped she was one of those who were screaming his name.  
The commentator Announced each of the Bulgarian players names, and one by one, they all disappeared onto the pitch to be greeted by enthusiastic cheers. Victor listened out for the name he was waiting for.

" AAAAAND...KRRUUUUMM!!!"

That was his cue. With butterlies attacking his internal organs, he jumped onto his broom and flew onto the pitch to thunderous applause. He hoped it wouldn't take long to find the snitch...


	6. Do you love me?

**Disclaimer: I only own ideas, Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling!**

**What happened to Krum?**

Hermione and Ron were both very tired. They had had to get up at a rather unsociable time in order to catch to portkey. When they arrived, they discovered that someone had reserved the best spot for their tent, which made Ron's ears turn scarlet. This whole business with the secret admirer had made him feel almost inadequate - he could never afford all of the things this person was sending her.

The match would start in half an hour. Ron and Hermione were making their way to the stadium, nervously anticipating what they might find there. Looking at the tickets, Hermione saw that their seats were in the Top Box. She showed them to Ron, who grunted in reply. He had started to regret coming.  
They sat down in their allocated seats. Whoever had bought them obviously had no issue with money. They were at the very front of the Top Box, too high up for anyone elses head to obscure their view. They could see the action perfectly - it almost felt as if they were on the pitch. Ron didn't know how to feel about it - pleased that their seats were so good, or livid that someone had bought them for her.

Hermione put her arm around his waist. "What's up?" She asked, soothingly.

He softened. "Nothing." He replied. Then "Do you love me?" He had to ask. She kissed him. "Always." She whispered. He draped his arm over the back of her chair and sat back. The commentator welcomed them to the match.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Quidditch World Cup. Please take your seats and show your appreciation for the Bulgarian team mascots...VEEELLAAA!"

The crowd erupted, but the applause died down quickly when the veela started to dance. Their silvery hair floated around their heads as they leaped and flew. Hermione took Ron's hand. Last time he had seen the veela dance he had nearly jumped off the Top Box.  
Ron was so enraptured by the veela he didn't notice Hermione's hand slip into his. Hermione watched him nervously until they stopped. He shook his head and looked at her, confused. She laughed.

After the Swiss team mascots had done their thing, the Bulgarian team players were annonced and one by one they flew onto the pitch. The last name caught Hermione's attention. Krum. Could it be... no, that was ridiculous. That was so long ago. And yet, it would explain so much...the quidditch tickets, the value of the gifts. She looked at Ron, who was looking at her. She shook her head slowly, and he turned around. It was impossible. She shook her head again, her bushy hair moving from side to side with it. The match was starting.


	7. Will you be my wife?

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the amazing Ms Rowling!**

**What happened to krum?**

Krum circled the pitch. The snitch was nowhere to be seen. He slowed to a halt. He had to do two things. Number one - he had to win. Number two - he had to show off as much as possible whilst winning to impress Hermione. Although, exactly where to start he had no idea.

He looked around the pitch. the Swiss seeker was eyeing him carefully. He smiled. Suddenly he dived downwards, his broom almost verticle to the ground. The Swiss seeker soon followed, but without the grace and elegance that Krum offered. Krum carried on falling gaining speed rapidly until he was inches from the grassy pitch. Then, he leaned back, pulling his broom back up with him and, with perfect timing started to glide back upwards. A wronski feint. The Swiss seeker was not quick enough, and went crashing to the ground. That had got rid of him. The crowd were screaming, chanting Krum's name over and over like men possesed.

Number two - check.

Now Krum searched around for the snitch. Hovering above the game, he was frustrated to find that he could not see it anywhere. Bulgaria were leading 30-10, but Switzerland were getting their side together and they were playing better and better. He had to find it soon. Out of nowhere, a bludger came hurtling towards him. He ducked to avoid it and - there it was! A little speck of gold was glimmering just near the goal hoops. With no need to be subtle, he sped towards it, urging his broom forwards. It flitted away, but not fast enough. Krum stuck out his hand - his fingers were milimetres away from the snitch. He flattened himself to the broom, shooting forwards and grasped the tiny ball in his fingers. He held it up and the crowd erupted.

Number one - check.

The commentator was singing his praises, but he wasn't listening. It was time. Letting go of the snitch, he swallowed and flew to the Top Box, his hand in his pocket. He landed smoothly next to Ron, who he ignored. The whole stadium was alive with hushed whispers of "What's he doing". He ignored them, too. Looking straight at Hermione he a small, square box out of his pocket. As he knelt down he opened it. Everything was silent. Inside the box sat a ring, the jewels shimmering in the sunlight. He said something that made Hermione gasp, and Ron shake with anger, his ears scarlet.

He said, "Hermione Granger - will you be my wife?"


	8. Selfish

**Hey! Sorry to keep you hanging on that little cliffie, I've been really busy! After you read the chapter, can you please review and tell me what you think Ron should have been accused of? Thank you so much, it will all make sense once you have read it!**

**Disclaimer: I only own my ideas, not Harry Potter.**

**What happened to Krum?**

Hermione gasped. Ron shook with anger, his ears scarlet. They both stood up, Hermione slowly and awkwardly, Ron quickly, still trembling with rage. Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but Ron got ther first.

"How dare you!! She's married - perfectly happily - we were - are - fine! But you couldn't leave us in peace, could you? Couldn't face the fact that this time, someone else has got something that you can't have?! YOU SELFISH LITTLE-"

He continued with some strong language, striding closer to Krum who laughed hysterically.

"You're just jealous! You know that I'm better for her! You know that I can give her things you can only dream of! So maybe I'm not the selfish one, maybe you are! Maybe you should just let her come with me, and find someone else to share your pathetic little life with!"

Ron fumed. Stepping towards Krum, he swung his arm and punched him in the mouth. Krum clutched his face and screamed "ASSAULT!".Then he quickly lifted his foot and kicked Ron between the legs. Ron dropped to the floor, squirming. People began to crowd around Krum who was rubbing his face and pointing at Ron. Reporters began clicking their cameras at him, and speaking excitedly to Quick Quotes Quills. Fans glared at him, and a teenager in baggy jeans spat disgustedly in his direction. He turned around, and Hermione was looking at him and shaking her head. Suddenly, two Aurors came out of the crowd, looking meaningfuly at Ron. Ron looked back. Surely they couldn't arrest him for smacking Victor Krum? He heard a reporter talking hurriedly to her Quill.

"Ronald Weasley is the name of the man who comitted this terrible crime. He will go down in history as the man who will be hated forever by Quidditch fans everywhere. Victor Krum is now severely shaken and most probably traumatised for life. Everyone here is hoping that Krum will pull through, and that will get the punishment he deserves for this disgusting act."

So Krum had laid it on thick. So thick, that the whole country was now going to think that he had commited a - what was it? - "Disgusting act". Ron looked back at the Aurors. They were walking towards him. Without thinking, he turned on his heels and ran.  
Task one - find out what he was supposed to have done. Task two - either clear his name, or do it.


	9. Pick me

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, OK?**

**What happened to Krum?**

Hermione let herself into the house and began searching each room thoroughly. Lighting the lamps, she called Ron's name every time she opened a door. Nobody answered. After an hour of combing the house for her husband, Hermione finally gave up. Heaving a great sigh, she plunged herself onto the dark red, patched settee and buried her head in her hands. Slowly, tears began to leak from her eyes and within minutes she was in hysterics, her wails echoing around the house. She threw her head back and sobbed. A tap at the window five minutes later distracted her from her greif for a second. She looked up to see the beautiful tawny owl that had delivered the packages from Krum at the window. Her bottom lip trembled when she thought of Victor and the scene he made at the Quidditch match. She shook her head, and the owl tapped again impatiently. She walked slowly over to the window and was surprised when she saw that it carried not a parcel, but a letter. The owl stuck it's leg out, and Hermione procceeded to untie the letter from it's leg. The second she had done this, the owl disappeared into the night, leaving her alone with her thoughts once again.

She sat back down, looking at the letter. It was addressed to her in loopy handwriting that looked as though it had been practised many times. She took a deep breath, and tore the envolope open. A peice of crisp parchment fell out onto the floor. She picked it up with shaking hands and began to read.

Dear Hermione,  
I'm sorry that I embarrased you at the Quidditch match. I thought that it would impress you, all of the presents and jewellery. I now realise that I was very wrong, and that I should have gone about this in a very different manner. But I find it very difficult to open up to people and share my feelings, even if I want more than anything for them to know how I feel. But I'm going to try to open up to you in a way I find easier, and I hope you won't mind that this is coming from a letter and not my mouth.  
The thing is, Hermione - I love you. I never stopped loving you from the moment I laid eyes on you. That year, when I was in the Triwizard Tournament, I was introduced to a whole new species; Girls. I had never really thought about them before. You see, Durmstrang is an all boys school, and my mother died when I was young. I was an only child, brought up by my father, so you will understand why I was so intruiged by them. But the only one who really shone was you, because you were different. You didn't twitter and giggle like the others did, and you seemed thoughtful, interesting. I fell in love with you right there, and you are the only person I have ever really loved. I think about you all the time, and I don't think I can ever be happy without you. I want you to choose me over him. Please think about it. I'm always here. And I love you.  
Your Victor.

Hermione folded the letter up silently, refusing to register what it said. The idea was ludicrous, and yet here was the letter in front of her, telling her it was true. She stood up on uneasy legs to put the letter on the dining table. However, there was already something on the dining table in the spot reserved for letters. She picked up the tatty parchment, putting Krums letter in it's place. She looked at it and sank into a worn wooden chair. She could recognise that untidy scrawl anywhere.

Hermione,  
I've got to be quick, because they're after me, and they know where I live. I just waned to let you know a few things before I disappeared for a while.  
The first thing is I didn't do it. Whatever it is, he's lying. You were there, and I only hit him one for proposing to my wife. As long as you know that I'll be OK.  
Another thing is, I won't be coming back for a while. I've taken the tent, and I'm hiding until it's safe for me to come out. Please don't come looking, because you won't find me. I'm using the spells you taught me and Harry to protect myself.  
The next thing is him. I suppose I know, deep down, that he can give you things I can't. He's showed me that. Diamond rings, pearl necklaces, sugar mice. If you want to go with him that's fine. I won't be mad. I won't go and hunt him down and beat him to a pulp with a stick. Not if you have chose him, and you want to be with him, anyway.  
Which leads nicely to my final point. I love you. I love you more than he possibly could. And I wish I didn't have to leave you because of him. You can't imagine how much it hurts to write this, knowing that I might not see you for a year, maybe longer. But I promise that I'll never stop thinking about you until the day I find you again.  
Love, Ron.

She couldn't believe it. She ran her finger over Ron's name, not wanting to let of the batered note that was the closest she had to him. Then she thought back to Victor's letter. He loved her, too. She wailed, tears running down her face, She dropped to the floor, kicking and screaming like a toddler having a tantrum. This time, nothing happened to distract her and make her pull herself together. She laid on the stained carpet until the sun came up and she eventually drifted into a dreamless sleep.


	10. Ron's gone

**Disclaimer: I only own my ideas!**

**What happened to Krum?**

Ginny Potter looked out of the window. She saw a stone path leading from her bright red front door, through the steep garden, and carrying on down the emerald green hill. She did not however, see what she was looking for. Her husband, Harry, was late home from work, which was most unlike him. She sighed and turned back to the potatoes, trying not to worry about where he might be. If he didn't come soon, his tea would be ruined.

Half an hour later, Ginny felt that she could wait no longer for him to return. She put on the WWN and sat down at the granite breakfast bar. He wouldn't be long, she told herself, putting a piece of chicken in her mouth. It was perfectly cooked – but Harry's wouldn't be if he didn't hurry up.

Celestina Warbeck belted out her top note in "You charmed the heart right out of me". Ginny sighed again. It was Harry's favorite song – they usually danced to it when it was on.

"Oh, my poor heart, where has it gone/It's left me for a spell..."

Just then, to Ginny's great surprise and delight, the little door burst open and Harry ran inside, threw down his case and grabbed Ginny by the waist joining in cheerfully with Celestina.

"...And now you've torn it quite apart/I'll thank you to give back my heart!"

He twirled her round, lifting her up easily, so high that her head knocked against the cream ceiling.

"Sorry, darling." He said, putting her down gently as Celestina finished her song. She giggled.

"What kept you? Why are you so late?" She demanded

He rubbed his forehead, looking suddenly tired. "Oh, it's nothing. Just a little trouble at the Quidditch match."

Ginny looked at him suspiciously. "What kind of trouble?"

"Just...brawls, that sort of thing, you know? Only they had to get the Aurors in because it was getting a bit violent, and then we had to calm everybody down and get rid of them all and ..." His voice trailed off. Ginny was still not completely satisfied with this answer. To her, Quidditch brawls did not seem like the kind of job the head of Auror office should be doing, and even if he had, it was a poor excuse for being nearly 3 hours late home and completely tired out. Still, she was not about to press him when he seemed so fed up. She decided she would get the truth out of him tomorrow, when he felt better. For now, she settled with banging his plate down on the table and sitting on the sofa without a word, glaring at him now and again from behind the Daily Prophet.

Later that evening, all hard feelings had been forgotten. Harry and Ginny curled up together on the leather settee listening to the Weird Sisters on the WWN, talking about their days and their friends and the news. Suddenly, a loud popping sound disturbed their peaceful conversation. They stopped talking and listened, Harry turning off the WWN with a flick of his wand. They heard banging noises coming from outside. Harry jumped up and went to look out of the window.

"Is there anything there?" Ginny hissed

"I don't know – it's all dark!" Harry replied in a whisper

"HARRY!!" This was neither Ginny nor Harry himself, though they both looked at each other wildly when they heard it. It was in fact a very angry Hermione Granger-Weasley, who was standing at the door.

"WHERE IS HE?" She screamed

"Who? Wha-"

"DON'T PLAY INNOCENT WITH ME HARRY!"

"Hermione I-"

"TELL ME!"

"Stop it!" Ginny's voice cut through their argument, silencing them both, "Hermione, calm down and tell me what the hell you are on about."

Hermione sank into the window seat looking daggers at Harry. "Not told her either then?" She spat. Before Harry had a chance to retaliate she turned to Ginny and said "Ronald has gone missing. We went to the Quidditch match today and he got into a spot of trouble-"

"Spot of trouble?" Harry raised his eyebrows

"With Victor Krum" Hermione continued, glaring at Harry. "He ran off and when I got home there was a note saying that he was going away. Where is he?"

"Hermione, I honestly do not know. And I wouldn't call what Ron tried to do a 'spot of trouble', either."

"What do you mean? What did he try to do?" Hermione looked genuinely confused. Harry shook his head.

"Hermione, you were there, you must have seen him? He tried to kill Krum!"

Ginny gasped, her eyebrows shooting up to disappear behind her hair. Her dinner plate eyes were on Hermione, who looked like someone had smacked her hard on the back. She said nothing for am moment, staring at Harry in disbelief. Eventually she managed to splutter "Who told you that?"

"Victor Krum himself" Harry replied quietly, moving swiftly to sit in the seat next to her.

"Oh my God." She whispered, staring into space, "He didn't Harry, he wouldn't, he only smacked him for proposing to me he...he..." She trailed off and tears began streaming down her face. Ginny finally managed to move from the position she had frozen in, and questioned a different part of the discussion.

"Victor Krum _proposed_ to you? But you're married! He knows that, he was there, wasn't he?" Hermione sniffed and wiped her eyes. "Yes" She sighed. Looking at Ginny's confused face, she broke into an explanation of the recent events, starting with the necklace and finishing with the Quidditch match. As soon as she reached Ron hitting Krum she stopped and began to sob uncontrollably on Harry's shoulder. Harry patted her awkwardly on the back, her wails echoing around the room.

That evening, Ron was astounded when three owls managed to find his hiding place. He was even more astounded when he realized that one of them was a very old and tired Pigwidgeon. The other two he did not recognise, but they both held letters addressed to him. Starting with Pig, he took the letters and sent the owls away. Looking down at the letters in his hand, he groaned reluctantly. He just had time to mutter "Muffliato!" under his breath before the top letter that had come from Pig began to shout in a shrill voice:

RONALD! Come home RIGHT NOW! You are being RIDICULOUS! Nobody believes the stupid rumours that are going round, and you are really overreacting!! I swear, if you do not come home IMMEDIATELY, I am going to hunt you down and KILL YOU MYSELF! SO GET YOUR ARSE HOME!!

The letter then burst into flames, the ashes scattering across the ground. Ron was stunned. Part of him wanted to laugh, the another wanted to burst into tears, because there was nothing he wanted to do more than go home and curl up in bed with Hermione, who really didn't have to sign that letter to let him know it was her. Suddenly, the part that wanted to laugh seemed to disappear, and tears began to roll down his face in streams.

Because he could have been sure that after all the shouting, there had been a small, inconspicuous "I love you" in that Howler.


	11. Forest of Dean

**Disclaimer: I only own my ideas, Harry Potter belongs to J..**

**What happened to Krum?**

Ron sighed. He was going over the niggling worry in his mind, for what seemed like the millionth time, after looking at the three pieces of parchment strewn across the floor of his old and battered tent. He found it kind of ironic how well these three notes showed the differences between the way men and women think. The first two – Ginny's and Hermione's – begged him to come home, where they could work it out and talk to Krum,blah, blah,blah. The third, however, was from Harry, and it was considerably shorter, scruffier and less desperate than the previous two. And it certainly gave him very different instructions.

Ron felt kind of guilty about the response he was going to write. It was typical of Harry to play the hero, and Ron would usually have rolled his eyes and shook his head, remembering how much trouble this tendency had gotten him into before. But this time Ron could see why he did it – and he was grateful. He still felt sorry though – sorry for Harry, sorry for Ginny, sorry for Hermione – and sorry for himself. He was in enough mess alone, without bringing someone else into it.

Nevertheless, he reached into pocket and pulled out a quill and a torn piece of parchment. He then proceeded to write three words on it, and sent it off with Pig.

The words were:

Forest of Dean

Ginny knew something was afoot as soon as she woke up that morning. She stretched and rolled over, reaching out for Harry. However, her hand dropped like a stone through the air that should have been him. She sat up, puzzled. It was unheard of for Harry to be up before her. She usually had to shake him at least twice before he got up for work.

As she dragged herself out of bed, she heard banging sounds coming from downstairs. She frowned. What was he doing? She put on her slippers and plodded down the stairs herself, yawning as she entered the kitchen. There was Harry, frying pancakes on the hob. Pancakes! Ginny stared incredulously.

"Pancakes?" She asked, raising her eyebrows. Harry looked hurt.

"What's up? You like pancakes!" He said, not looking away from the pan.

"Well...Yes, but since when do _you_ make them?" She yawned, sitting at the table. Harry plonked her pancakes in front of her, sticky syrup streaming down his wrist, and went back to make his own.

"Since now." He replied shortly, still not meeting her gaze. She lowered her fork, narrowing her eyes at him.

"What's the matter, Harry?" She demanded, her tone suddenly sharp.

"Nothing." He replied, too quickly, his voice too high. He finally looked up at her, and as their eyes met he gave up the pretense.

"I'm going to find Ron". He babbled in a rush to get the words out, if he had to say them at all. Ginny, much to his surprise, did not look surprised or angry. She just looked sad.

"Harry" She sighed, shaking her head, "I know you feel bad, with Ron out there on his own while you sit at home doing nothing. But this is really not our problem. Please, don't make so. Ron's a big boy now. He can look after himself."

Harry said nothing. He and Ginny just stared at each other, each willing the other to say something. Suddenly, Harry dropped his gaze, looking intently at the floor.

"I can't do it Ginny. I can't leave Ron alone, not knowing what's going on. It will kill me! You know well enough to know that. Please."

Ginny smiled weakly. She walked up to Harry and put her arms around his neck. He squeezed her back and let go.

"OK. But make sure you come back. I'm a bit stuck without you."

He smiled too. He kissed her and said "I will. Bye. I love you." She smiled. "I love you, too" She whispered. With a quick wave, Harry was out of the door. Ginny watched him run to the end of the stone path and disappear in a swirl of black robes. She sighed. Who knew when he'd be back?

Hermione was mad. She had sent letter after letter to Ronald, with no response apart from one pathetic, "I'm sorry, I love you.". Now she heard that Harry had run off to find him, without a care in the world for what might happen to Ginny while he's off gallivanting. "Men," She thought "Typical men"

She looked around. The house was a mess. There were dirty clothes strewn across the floor, innumerable quills scattered around and a huge blue ink stain on the carpet, like a mysterious pool in the middle of the room. As Hermione began to tidy, fishing yesterdays underwear from beneath the sofa, there was a small knock . She was surprised to see the familiar tawny owl, looking rather grand at the window. She let it in and took the roll of parchment from it. It shook it's feathers importantly and flew off into the horizon. As Hermione read the letter, a mix of emotions came flooding to the surface.

Dear Hermione,

Why have you not written back? Surely we can still be friends, even if, as I take it, you do not share my exact feelings about our relationship? I would like to meet you, in person, so we can discuss the situation we find ourselves stuck in. Are you available for dinner on Thursday? If you are, please send me a note and I can give you some more details about where and when we shall meet

Yours Faithfully

Victor Krum

P.S I know he's run away. Don't worry. You're not alone.

Hermione thought that this letter was more polite than his others, almost formal. Yet this didn't stop her from being enraged at the cheek of him, sending her letters after what he had done! The sly comment about Ron going away at the end! And wanting to have dinner with her! How dare he!

Hermione threw the letter aside, disgusted, and flopped onto the settee. She no longer cared about the state the house. She didn't think she cared about anything anymore. She looked out of the window and wondered what Ron might be doing, right then. Probably sat in a pub drinking mead and playing poker with Harry, she huffed. Oh, he was going to get it when he came back. Leaving her all alone, with nothing nobody to keep her company, to keep her sane. How dare _he? _

As she looked around the room again, she came up with a good way to get back at both of them. Grinning maliciously, she grabbed the nearest quill and an ink pot. Perhaps she could meet Victor, after all...


	12. The first 'outing'

**Wow, its a while since I've updated huh? Well I could never just stop in the middle so, here goes!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own ANYTHING**!

The following Thursday, Hermione took her time getting ready. She did not want to do this. However, she desperately needed to help Ron, so she was willing to do whatever was necessary.

Although she couldn't help thinking that this wouldn't be necessary if Ron and Viktor weren't both so melodramatic.

She was meeting Viktor at the swankiest, most expensive restaurant in London – another opportunity for him to show off, she expected. She was dressed accordingly in a little black dress and some ridiculous shoes that she had purchased in a muggle shop the day before. Not her usual style, but she expected that Viktor would like it and that that was important now. She checked herself in the full length mirror in the hall, tugging in vain at her skirt before grabbing her bag and leaving the house. It really was disgustingly short.

When she arrived at the address Viktor had given her, her mouth fell open in an uncouth O of shock. It was the most extravagant building she had ever set eyes on, to disgrace even the stateliest of homes. The first thing she noticed was the size – she estimated it was about the size of all the land she owned, plus the entire first floor of the ministry. And a bit of the second. The windows were draped with rich, red velvet curtains, and the roof tiles were coated with gold. The name of the eatery was hung in loopy gold letters on the reclaimed brickwork and the door was not a door but an archway. Hermione headed towards it, feeling slightly apprehensive. As she she drew nearer she saw Krum, already waiting for her in the doorway. He was dressed to match his surroundings in an expensive dinner suit with a scarlet waistcoat and tie. Just to prove that he dined here regularly.

She walked up to greet him and he kissed her hand in his gentlemanly way. She pulled away a little too quickly an he frowned.

"Please," He said "I only want to talk to you. Don't tell me you've already made your decision?"

Hermione considered this for a second. She looked into Viktors eyes and saw the love there, the pain. Then she cracked.

"No, I haven't."

Krums face lit up. "Thank you." He whispered. Hermione got the feeling that he was about to say something unbearably soppy. She stepped backwards hastily and asked "Do we have reservation then?"

Krum smiled "Of course. Obviously, I had to pull a few strings to get a table at such short notice..." Hermione rolled her eyes, "But I managed it, and believe me it's worth it. Shall we go in?" He turned an strutted through the oak doors into the restaurant, Hermione scurrying after him.

As soon as they entered, at least half the heads in the building turned. A snotty looking waiter strode up to them.

"A table for two, Mr. Krum?" He said, glancing at Hermione.

"Yes please" Krum said importantly, barely even glancing at the waiter. His eyes, too were on Hermione. She looked away awkwardly. This wasn't going to be easy.

As they were being shown to their seats, Hermione become increasingly amazed by their surroundings. It was reasonably dark and all the tables were lit with a number of red candles in silver candlesticks. The only other source of light was the flamboyant chandeliers dangling from the ceiling at regular intervals. As they walked past, people stopped and stared – Hermione wasn't sure whether they were staring at Viktor or her. After all, he had humiliated her in front of thousands of people, caused her a lot of stress and worry and scared away her husband, whom she loved very much. But of course, they thought her husband had had tried to kill Viktor. A strong feeling of guilt flared up inside her and for a moment she nearly burst into tears.

When the waiter had seated them and taken their orders, Krum looked adoringly at Hermione.

"You look beautiful." He said, "As always.

Hermione smiled, though she was cringing inside. She really wasn't good at this type of thing.

"Thank you." She said coyly, peeping at him through her eyelashes. An awkward silence fell between them, interrupted only by once Krum trying to talk about their situation.

"Hermione, I... Well, I really think that he's no goo-" But Hermione held up her hand. She didn't feel did'nt feel like talking about it now - it could wait.

"Not now. Save it. Let's not do this now." She said, her voice barely more then a whisper. Krum nodded his head once, a malicious grin creeping to his face. This was working.

They never did get round to having that conversation.

* * *

Looking back on that night, Hermione would concede that it had been enjoyable. But then, she supposed all the other 'outings' (she couldn't stand the word 'date'. It didn't didn't seem fitting anyway) would never have happened if she hadn't enjoyed herself that night. By the end of the month, they were going out together every other night, to another posh restaurant, or parties held by Viktor's high-society friends, or sometimes just to Krum's – extortionately large – home in the countryside. However, with each night the feeling of guilt that she just couldn't seem to shake intensified, and thinking of Ron became more and more painful. Hermione shoved him to the back of her mind - she was having too much fun to stop now.


End file.
